


The Fall

by Cross_d_a



Series: Better to be Blind (and see with your heart) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Jedi!Xanatos, blind!Xanatos, crechemaster!Xanatos, description of scarred injury, everyone has issues but they're doing their best, mention of child injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 00:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13559019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cross_d_a/pseuds/Cross_d_a
Summary: Obi-Wan wonders if he’ll evernothate Xanatos. If he’ll ever manage to rise above his petty grievances.Probably not.-In a moment of inner-turmoil, young Obi-Wan Kenobi seeks out his Padawan-brother despite any misgivings.





	The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I just needed to write about our favourite boys in a universe that could have been. Also, I'm practicing writing short ficlets because I seriously need that skill.

Obi-Wan finds him in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. He’s not quite sure why he needs to see Xanatos but he does. He does he does he does. There’s this awful shortness to his breath and a cold sweat along his brow. The fall plays on repeat in his mind. Flashing with every blink of his eyes like a glitching holo. The shout of warning, the shove, irritation that burns to horror as a sliver of red ignites the night only the end in that awful scream…

Like he expected, Xanatos sits at the edge of one of the pools. His crèche is gathered about him in meditation. Young things barely old enough to start ‘sabre training. They’re doing their best to impress their Crèchemaster. They want his warm praises and gentle hands. Half of them sit so stiffly Obi-Wan worries for their spines while the other half fidget every couple of seconds. Xanatos sits at the head of this little mass of younglings, serene as he usually is, hair falling in dark waves about his face.

In the light of the sun, the scars are horrific.

They tear, ragged, into his face. Awful and twisted and pink. One eye is missing completely, just a mass of scar tissue. The other peers blankly out at the world from beneath a drooping eyelid, a disconcerting mix of milky white and red veins. It’s a wonder none of the children have ever run screaming.

But Xanatos has always made it clear that he won’t hide who he is.

Obi-Wan pauses at the edge of the clearing. He gulps, eyes burning as he stares like he always tries not to do, even if Xanatos can’t see him. What if- what if Bruck will have scars like that? What if Bruck—

_No,_ Obi-Wan berates himself. He can’t think like that. He _can’t._ He has to believe in Bruck. In Feemor’s ability to tether Bruck to this living world. He must believe in the Force.

Obi-Wan bites his lip.

It’s so hard sometimes, though.

Hesitant as he always is around Xanatos, Obi-Wan steps forward.

A gentle smile lifts the corners of Xanatos’ lips. “Welcome, Padawan-brother. Would you care to join our meditation session?”

The younglings all turn to stare, eyes wide and eager. Their excitement flitters along his senses. They all want to know the boy who is brother to their beloved teacher. It’s lucky Master Qui-Gon forced Obi-Wan into the shower earlier otherwise he’d be treating the younglings to a lot of blood and muck. As it is, having them stare at him isn’t a pleasant experience. Whenever anyone finds out Obi-Wan shares a Master with Xanatos, their eyes immediately sharpen and Obi-Wan _hates_ how it feels. Hates being judged for a tenuous connection he has to a man he doesn’t even _like._ Hates being judged and found wanting.

For how can this tiny, scrap of a thing possibly come from the same line as the great and wonderful _Xanatos?_

And yet here Obi-Wan is.

Seeking out the man like everyone else does. Pulled into his brilliant orbit like a stray bit of detritus. Helpless in the face of the power that roils just beneath the man’s surface.

Obi-Wan wonders if he’ll ever _not_ hate Xanatos. If he’ll ever manage to rise above his petty grievances.

Probably not.

“No, thank you, Master Xanatos.”

Xanatos gives a non-committal hum. Then without further ado he closes his one eye shut and claps his hands together. His warm smile radiates in the Force, always so welcoming, so pleasant around the crèche.

Bile rises in Obi-Wan’s throat.

“Alright, younglings!” Xanatos calls. “I believe it is time to cut our meditation short today. The rest of the hour will be spent in the gardens as you see fit. Make sure to gather at the entrance of the Room of a Thousand Fountains at supper time. I’ve heard rumour that the cooks are making puffcakes tonight.”

The younglings immediately begin to chitter excitedly

“Now, off with you,” Xanatos laughs. “Go enjoy yourselves!”

“Thank you, Master du Crion!” they chorus before rushing off to play amongst the trees and flowers.

Disconcertingly, Xanatos turns his head precisely Obi-Wan’s way. With a small gesture, the man beckons Obi-Wan over.

Stomach churning, Obi-Wan dutifully draws near. When he stands at Xanatos’ knees, the man pats the grass beside him.

“Come sit, Obi-Wan. Seeing as you never voluntarily seek me out, you must be here for a reason.” A wry smile slants across his cheek, though he keeps his eye closed. Guilt knots in Obi-Wan’s throat. Xanatos knows his scars disconcert people, especially Obi-Wan, and the man does his best to alleviate the boy’s discomfort. Suddenly, Obi-Wan feels awful for always feeling as he does around Xanatos. For never trying to connect to the man. For clinging to his jealousy like an idiotic child.

For never trying to be as accommodating as Xanatos is.

After all, didn’t Obi-Wan just learn that not all people are as they seem?

Slowly, Obi-Wan lowers himself onto the cool grass to face his Padawan-brother.

It’s at this point whenever Xanatos spends time with someone that he says: _“Come, let me see you.”_ They will then take his hands and lay them upon their face, letting him explore the nooks and crannies of their expression. Letting him sink into the essence of their Force signature and see as well as a man robbed of his sight can.

Qui-Gon and Feemor welcome the ritual, smiling and gentle throughout. Even Bruck reluctantly allows Xanatos this intimate freedom.

But Xanatos has only done this with Obi-Wan once.

After the first time, filled with jealousy and discomfort towards a man that nearly cost Obi-Wan his apprenticeship with Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan had politely asked Xanatos to never do it again. Xanatos’ bewildered spike of pain had throbbed in Obi-Wan’s temple, but Xanatos had agreed with a strained smile.

Qui-Gon had berated Obi-Wan endlessly, but Obi-Wan refused to apologize. After all, why give Xanatos the right to a second chance after he’d already Fallen, when Qui-Gon had been unwilling to give Obi-Wan any chance at all? All in the name of the beloved apprentice who was hurt because of him. Qui-Gon didn’t want another apprentice harmed because of his mistakes, even if it meant sending a despairing child to a dreary life on the Outer Rim.

Now, though— Now, Obi-Wan takes Xanatos’ hands in his own. The man flinches, brow furrowing in confusion. Obi-Wan knows the man usually leaves himself completely open to the Force, using it to sense the intentions and feelings of those around him. But, as always with Obi-Wan, he closes himself off out of respect for a stupid boy like him.

If he’s honest, Obi-Wan hates himself more than he hates Xanatos.

Tears burn Obi-Wan’s eyes, but he doesn’t wipe them away. Wordlessly, he lays Xanatos’ hands upon his face. There’s a brief moment of hesitation as Xanatos simply lets his fingers cup Obi-Wan’s cheeks. Then, slowly, his calloused fingers glide over Obi-Wan’s skin. Letting out a shaky breath, Obi-Wan’s eyes flutter closed, tears seeping down the curve of his cheek.

There’s a sharp inhale, then fingers follow the path of his tears.

“What is the matter, Padawan-brother mine?” Xanatos murmurs.

A sob bursts out from between Obi-Wan’s lips. Lips twisting, he curls in on his tears, forcing Xanatos’ hands to slip from his face. “Bruck—” Obi-Wan manages before breaking out into another sob.

A warm palm brushes over his forehead before fingers carefully card through his hair to cup the back of his head. Fingertips brush the nape of his neck, steady and reassuring.

“I heard,” Xanatos confesses. “Qui-Gon commed me as soon as he could. I take it Bruck is still in the Healing Halls?”

Wordless, Obi-Wan nods.

“It isn’t your fault, you know.”

“Of course it is!” The words burst out before Obi-Wan can stop them. Aching and full of shameful anger. “Of course it is,” he repeats, voice hoarse.

A sigh caresses Obi-Wan cheek. A second hand wipes away his hot tears and lingers on his cheekbone. Then, Xanatos angles Obi-Wan’s chin up. “Look at me, Obi-Wan.”

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan opens his eyes to look upon Xanatos’ ruined face.

“Did you know that sniper was there?”

“Well, no, but it was my job—”

“No one notices everything, dear one. Now, did you force Bruck into the sniper’s path?”

“You know I didn’t—”

“I’m not finished.”

Obi-Wan gulps at the serious look upon the man’s face.

“Now, did you purposefully push Bruck off that cliff?”

Throat scratchy and awful, Obi-Wan shakes his head. “No,” he whispers.

A faint, weary smile passes over Xanatos’ face. “Qui-Gon tells me that you tried to save him.”

Pained, Obi-Wan closes his eyes. “I clearly didn’t. Because of me, he’s hurt. Because of _me_ he might _die—”_

“Oh, young one. Bruck made his choice, and that choice was to save you. I very much doubt he’d appreciate you taking responsibility for his own actions.” Xanatos’ smile turns into a much wryer grin. “Just as I loathe to hear Qui-Gon blame himself for my own decision to protect him from my father. Qui-Gon did not take my sight, my father did. And I am thankful every day that I made that choice.” Gently, Xanatos wipes away Obi-Wan’s stray tears. “I am certain that when Bruck wakes, he will not regret his decision, either.”

“How can you be sure?” Obi-Wan’s voice wobbles but he tries not to care. Tries not to think about how un-Jedi-like he’s being. “We’ve hated each other for so long, Xanatos. It felt like nothing changed when Feemor took him as an apprentice. I didn’t expect him to— How can you know that Bruck won’t hate me even more now? His arm, his _leg—_ ”

Xanatos gathers him close, enfolding him in the voluminous softness of his dark robes. “I know because Bruck and I are very similar, and because you and he are so alike. You both envy each other, but it isn’t hate you share. Just a deep yearning to belong. To be accepted.” Stroking the back of Obi-Wan’s head, Xanatos continues, “Bruck is not very good at making friends. I’d even go so far to say that he’s terrible at it. He struggles to find his place, just as you do. Just as I did.”

Holding his breath, Obi-Wan burrows into the warm folds of Xanatos’ cloak, hating how much comfort he takes from it.

“I was furious, you know, when I found out that Qui-Gon refused to take you on.”

Startled, Obi-Wan jerks away. He stares up into Xanatos’ mournful face. “What?”

“After you and Bruck had that duel, Feemor commed me immediately. He was so excited. He’d felt a connection with Bruck immediately. Though he knew the apprenticeship would be difficult, he looked forward to it. I was so happy. I’d convinced them to attend it in the first place. I knew Feemor was ready for his own Padawan, and I’d hoped Qui-Gon would finally get his head out of his ass and see that moving on would be good for him.”

Xanatos pauses. “When I asked after Qui-Gon, Feemor got quiet. He said that you were promising and so clearly meant to be a Jedi, but Qui-Gon refused to even think about it.” Xanatos sighs. “You know I was off world at the time, receiving the yearly treatment for my eyes. Otherwise I would have marched him straight down to your crèche and forced him to realize how wonderful you are.”

Obi-Wan’s cheeks burn. “But you didn’t even know me.”

Xanatos’ laugh is a small, soft thing. “I’d felt your presence before. Heard about your skills with the ‘sabre and how quick you seem to catch on to even the most complicated lesson. Of course, I’d also heard of your fights with Bruck. Crèchemasters gossip more than you’d think.”

Mortified, Obi-Wan ducks his head again.

“I commed Qui-Gon but he would not listen. Finally, I resorted to telling him that if he wasn’t going to grow a spine, he had to take responsibility and at least escort you to Bandomeer. I know how neglectful the Council can be when the situation involves children, though they think they do their best not to be.”

Something in Obi-Wan’s brain stalls.

Xanatos is the reason why Qui-Gon was put on that fateful ship in the first place? _Xanatos_ is ultimately the reason why Obi-Wan escaped with his life from the pirates who attacked them all? Who’d allowed Obi-Wan to prove himself to Qui-Gon on that awful trip?

Xanatos is the one who forced Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan together in the first place.

_“Xanatos,”_ Obi-Wan whispers, overcome. Shame and gratitude quake in his gut.

Xanatos’ smile is so kind it hurts. “I am so glad that it all worked out in the end.”

Pale and shaking now, Obi-Wan lifts a hand to fist it in Xanatos’ dark robe. “I’ve hated you for so long. I— It’s just like with Bruck. I’m an idiot, an _idiot._ I don’t deserve this. I shouldn’t be a Jedi. I’ve been so cruel—”

Unhesitatingly, Xanatos grips Obi-Wan’s hand tight. “That is most untrue. The Force touches you in a way that it doesn’t anyone else. You’re meant for something more, Obi-Wan. You’re meant for so much more. This is the path that is right for you. This is the path that you _deserve._ This home. This family. You deserve this. Never doubt that, Padawan-brother mine. _Never._ ”

Tears obscure Obi-Wan’s vision again. “But I _don’t._ How can I when I thought- when I didn’t— Why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

Comfortingly, Xanatos rubs a thumb along Obi-Wan’s palm. “I didn’t want put any unnecessary pressure on you. I’d have felt awful if you felt in debt to me when I deserve nothing of the sort. I simply saw what needed to be done. Even if it hurt when you rejected me, I knew you’d grow to understand.”

“Then why are you telling me now?”

“Because you need to hear it.”

Falling silent for a few minutes, Obi-Wan closes his eyes. Breathes. Thinks about Bruck pushing him out of the way of the blaster bolt even though they’ve fought for years and years. Pictures the fear in Bruck’s eyes. The way he’d stretched out one pale hand in Obi-Wan’s direction as he tumbled over the cliff edge…

“I still don’t understand you,” Obi-Wan confesses. “You almost went _Dark_ , and yet everyone loves you.” How come they love Xanatos when they shun Obi-Wan and Bruck?

Once again Xanatos sighs, but he doesn’t sound put upon. Just sad. So terribly sad. “There is a fine line between right and wrong, Padawan-brother mine, and everyone views the world differently. Not everyone loves me. That is just your perception. And…well. I believed my father cared for me, and that Qui-Gon did not. For so long I’d tried to fit into the Order without succeeding, and suddenly I was presented with my long-lost family. A sister who was truly good up until her death. A father who pleaded for me to join him in helping my people.”

Shaking his head, Xanatos continues. “But when I saw my father raise his sword against Qui-Gon, I knew it didn’t matter that this man claimed to be my father. He did not have my best interests at heart, not like Qui-Gon did. Not as Qui-Gon does.” Absently, he lifts a hand to trace the edge of his scar. “Qui-Gon is more of a father to me than that man ever was, even if his lightsaber took away my sight. It was not Qui-Gon’s fault, and it is not your fault Bruck suffered in your place. It was our choice to make, and you need to accept it and move on.”

“I don’t think I can,” Obi-Wan whispers.

Xanatos smiles. “You can. You are far more capable than you think, Obi-Wan. Anger is all right. Frustration and guilt are all right. As long as you learn from it and don’t let it consume you.”

Obi-Wan sniffles, rubbing at his nose. “I still feel awful. But- but I’ll try. Try to be better. Try to understand.” Hiccupping, he mutters under his breath, _“I’m such an idiot.”_ Xanatos doesn’t comment, but he does grip Obi-Wan’s hand tighter, smile so awfully understanding on his ruined face.

Face hot with embarrassment, Obi-Wan lets himself study his Padawan-brother’s scars. There’s still a sick feeling in his stomach when he looks at him. But it’s not revulsion. Obi-Wan actually isn’t sure it’s ever been revulsion. Right now, guilt rises acidic in his throat. Sorrow fills his eyes. Anger tightens his gut. Anger that Xanatos ever had to go through such troubles. Anger that something so precious is forever taken from him. Anger that life is so, _so_ unfair.

Obi-Wan closes his eyes. Breathes through that anger. Lets it wash over him like the heated rage of a swelling fire—

Then lets it go. Leaves it to dwindle into spitting embers and weary smoke. He doesn’t need to let it overwhelm him. Not at all.

Pride brushes the edge of his awareness. When Obi-Wan’s opens his eyes again, Xanatos’ single eye is open. In that moment, Obi-Wan has never felt that anyone else has seen him so clearly before.

“Thank you, Xanatos. For everything. I’m so sorry I’ve been so awful.” With that, he wraps his arms around Xanatos in the first hug he’s ever given his Padawan-brother.

Xanatos hugs him back without reservation.

“All is forgiven.”

-:-

When Bruck wakes two weeks later, Obi-Wan is the first person he sees.

When Bruck wakes up he is missing an arm and a leg and Obi-Wan holds him as they both cry.

When Feemor, Qui-Gon and Xanatos rush into the Healer’s Ward upon the news that Bruck is awake, they find Bruck and Obi-Wan curled into each other on the bed. Still unsure of their relationship and the history behind it, the two boys still hold each other in sleep, tear tracks drying upon their reddened cheeks. Hesitant familial love softens their features and warms the air about them.

Xanatos revels in the blossoming of the Force. In the kindness of possibility and forgiveness—

And smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> I have already planned out so many fics for this I'm so excited.


End file.
